I am left handed
I am left handed. I always have been. Someday when I was 3 or perhaps 4 years old, a box of crayons was put in front of me and I was invited to draw a picture. I reached out and grabbed a crayon with my left hand. Most people in this first experience reached out with their right hand. But not me. I am left handed. When I went to school I noticed a few things. First, if I wanted to use my left hand to cut paper, I had to find one of only one or two pairs of scissors with the title “lefty” on them to do so. I learned to cut with my right hand. It was easier to just accommodate. But I was still left handed. I was shown how the proper way of writing consisted of writing from the left to the right, and included an angle to my letters that came quite naturally to right handed writers, but not to me. I learned how to make my letters stand up straight instead of lean to the left, and I got used to not being able to see what I had just written. I made it work. Because